


The Silent Soldier

by asuitcasecalledlouis



Series: The Silent Soldier [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, AU, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Darcy is a bamf, Everybody loves Darcy Lewis, F/M, Kidnapping, Not Canon Compliant, Pietro Maximoff is Still Alive, Protective Bucky Barnes, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, WinterShock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:45:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7183874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuitcasecalledlouis/pseuds/asuitcasecalledlouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Bucky doesn't speak to Darcy, one time he does.</p><p>(This is definitely a soulmark AU, it just isn't talked about much!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> So one little thing popped into my head and it spawned this fic, which is way longer than I anticipated it would be! This is not the first fic I have written, but it is the first one I have plucked up the courage to post. Totally unbeta'd, written in a haze of WinterShock induced inspiration. I hope you enjoy! Comments would mean the world :)  
> (no spoilers for Civil War, I wrote this before I saw the film)  
> (Also I'm sorry for Britishisms, completely my bad)

Darcy huffed as she rooted around in her bag for the lab keys. She had, for once, managed to cajole Jane out of the lab for a whole weekend and had been looking forward to living like a normal human person for a couple of days. But no. Jane, just about to rainbow off to Asgard with Thor, had given her a panicked look and cried, “Darcy I didn’t switch off the-” before disappearing.

Well that meant that Darcy had to go all the way back to tower from the isolated Avengers facility, go back to the lab and search every goddamn socket until she found whichever doodad Jane had been talking about that needed to be turned off, before actually being allowed to go home. She had been tempted to just cut the power to the lab but from previous experience, including a small explosion, she had decided that would be a Very Bad Plan.

Once she had located the keys, Darcy pushed open the heavy glass door – seriously what was the point in glass doors? At least Stark had installed bullet (or random bits of flying machinery) proof glass now – and stomped into the lab. She stopped short as she rounded a corner and saw a figure hunched over in front of the computer.

“ _Jesus Christ, how many times have I told you nerds to turn on the lights when it gets dark_?” she sighed, flicking the switch next to her.

A Very Bad Plan.

The figure shot out of the seat and had pinned her to the wall by her throat before she had a chance to breathe. His hair fell about his face, which was half covered by a black mask. Piercing blue eyes bored into her, as if waiting for her to explain her presence. Darcy, never one for staying quiet, gave a shaky laugh.

“I can turn them off again if you want?”  
The man ran his eyes over her, assessing the threat, before nodding once and releasing her. Without looking away, Darcy felt for the switch and sent the room into darkness. The man ignored her stares and went back to the computer.

“You won’t find it on there,” Darcy spoke up from her position by the wall. Moving didn’t seem like that great an option at that moment in time.  
His head snapped round and he once again glared at her.

“Jane doesn’t keep her research here, not now anyway,” Darcy shrugged. “Too many people have tried to steal it.”  
The man frowned.

“It’s not here at the moment, and it’s not coming back any time soon,” Darcy said with a shake of her head.  
The intruder stood once more and advanced on her.

Darcy raised a hand and pointed at him, “If you’re thinking about killing me, I have a lot of friends in high places.”  
The man quirked an eyebrow and made a noise of derision, but stopped walking. Darcy didn’t dare say another word – the man had stopped advancing and she wasn’t going to risk him continuing his attack.  
A tense silence fell upon the room, neither of them moving a muscle.  
Suddenly, the elevator doors dinged across the hall. Darcy turned sharply to the source of the noise, and watched as one of the harried looking interns stepped out, coffee in one hand and papers in the other. Darcy opened her mouth to warn him of the intruder, but when she glanced back into the lab, she was completely alone.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which almost nothing is said but quite a lot happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two! Apparently my chapters get increasingly longer as they go up in number (90% of this is already written), so that's quite fun :)  
> Thank you so much to those who commented, I will get round to answering, I promise! More are welcome ;)  
> Forgot to put this before, but I own none of these characters (something I will mourn forever).  
> Enjoy!

“ _He left her alive…”  
_ The whispers flew around HYDRA for weeks after the Soldier’s failed attempt to get hold of Dr Foster’s research. Soon, even the low level drones were discussing possible reasons the Winter Soldier himself let the lab assistant walk away unscathed. Everybody could tell that the higher-ups were getting anxious – their emotionless weapon had disobeyed a direct order and had left a witness. One _girl_ had managed to break past his programming. Something had to be done.

This was why Darcy found herself strapped to a metal chair in a dark room, having been dragged off the street into a dark van three days ago. She had been beaten, deprived of food and water, and was beginning to give up hope. The door slammed open and one of her captors marched in. Not one of the thugs who had punched her, no. This was the slimy guy who watched from the corner of the room each time. He smirked when she glared at him. Darcy hoped he wouldn’t see the dried tear tracks on her face, or the fact that her hands shook where they were bound to the chair.

“Miss Lewis. I do hope your stay with us has been pleasant so far.”  
Darcy told him to go fuck himself. At least, she tried to. Nothing more than a hoarse whisper came out.  
The creep’s smirk widened.

“I’m afraid I come bearing unfortunate news. Your loyalty to Dr Foster is extraordinary, but we are not looking for _that_ kind of extraordinary. You have proven to be quite useless, Miss Lewis, and we no longer require your presence. I would have liked to wish you a good day, but I can assure you it won’t be.”  
He turned on his heel and left.

Darcy let out a dry sob, but held more back when four of her “interrogators” returned and took up various guard positions around the dimly lit room. She looked down at the grimy floor, not wanting to see which one of them would actually finish the job. She was surprised to hear another set of footsteps enter the room, so looked up when they stopped walking.

It was him. The intruder from the lab, mask and all. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly when he recognised her face. This was interesting – he wasn’t expecting it to be her. Darcy gave him a pleading look, begging him to do _something_. Instead, he raised his gun and pointed it straight at her. Darcy composed herself, settling her mouth in a determined line. She refused to show fear in the last moments of her life, especially to bullies like HYDRA. She stared at the man with the gun, as if daring him to pull the trigger. A small frown fleetingly crossed his forehead.

He flicked the safety off.  
Darcy closed her eyes.

Four gunshots sounded in quick succession. Darcy’s heart pounded in her chest, ears ringing from the sudden noise in a cramped environment. Her eyes flew open. The intruder still had his gun out, but it was pointing at the guard to his right. Darcy stared around the room numbly, assessing the four dead men with neat holes in their foreheads. Before she knew what was happening the masked man was crouching at her feet, cutting through the cable ties restraining her with a large knife. She rubbed her wrists as they were freed, watching the man work with incredulity. He had saved her life, but she had no idea why.

As soon as he legs were freed, her rescuer pulled her to her feet and half dragged her over to the door. Darcy stumbled behind him, her muscles trying to readjust to actually being used. The man paused at the door and Darcy pressed herself up behind him, trying to block everything except the strong plane of his back. He gave the hand he held a squeeze - possibly involuntarily, Darcy thought – before tugging her into the hallway, gun raised in front of him.

They rounded corner after corner, following identical dim corridors. Her rescuer was systematically shooting security cameras and then backing up, heading through the tunnels like he was following a map. Darcy heard shouts and pounding footsteps in the distance, but nobody bothered them until they emerged into a dark garage. With a finger against the mask, the man pointed to a dark SUV and motioned for her to hide. She did so, adrenaline coursing through her veins in the tense silence.

Within seconds of her hiding, bursts of gunfire ricocheted around the room and men yelled from all angles. In the moment, Darcy wondered if there were any henchwomen, but her thoughts were cut off by a set of keys landing at her feet. She fumbled with them, and pressed the button. The car against her back made a quiet unlocking noise, but nothing too obvious. HYDRA was clearly big on the whole ‘super-secret organisation’ thing. Darcy peered over the edge of the hood and couldn’t see anything. The violence sounded further away, so she deemed it safe to quietly open the door and slide into the back seat.

She lay huddled there for what felt like forever, listening to her heart pound, before the driver’s door was wrenched open. Darcy gave a hoarse scream before she realised who it was. He held out his hand and Darcy shakily dropped the key into it. The engine roared to life and, with a squeal of tyres, they shot out of the garage and out into the world.

Darcy blinked as her eyes readjusted to natural light. Thankfully, it seemed to be early evening so the waning sun wasn’t too much of a shock. The soldier kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing in the rear-view mirror to check he wasn’t being followed. Or to check on her. Darcy really wasn’t sure.

They travelled in silence for hours. Darcy watched the sun set and the moon rise, but didn’t sit up until her masked rescuer pulled over to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. He turned the engine off and got out, slamming the door behind him. She heard his boots crunch round to the back of the SUV and then the trunk opened.

Great, Darcy thought. He was just going to kill her someplace else. She sat up, every fibre of her body hating her. With a small stretch, Darcy looked out of the window properly. All she could see for miles was fields – an ideal place to hide a body. She jumped as the rear passenger side door opened. To her surprise, the man held out a bottle of water and a protein bar. Without a second’s hesitation, Darcy grabbed both, downing half the water in one gulp before tearing into the protein bar. She closed her eyes and moaned as she chewed, the shitty bar tasting like heaven for someone who hadn’t eaten in days. When she reopened them, the man was gone only to reappear a few seconds later with two more cereal bars, another bottle of water and an oversized sweater. Darcy smiled.

“Thank you,” she managed to croak out, the water easing her parched throat minutely.  
His expression didn’t change but, as she could only see his eyes, that wasn’t hard. She took a few more sips of water.

“You can take it off if you want to,” she spoke again. That earned her a quizzical frown.  
“The mask. It doesn’t look that comfortable and you saved my life,” she clarified. “I’ll keep your secret.”  
The quizzical frown deepened. He seemed to be weighing up his options.

Darcy assumed the decision was a ‘no’ when he closed the door and walked around to shut the trunk. She sat back, chewing on the next protein bar. She was starting to feel sleepy, adrenaline wearing off now the edge had been taken off her hunger and thirst. She shoved the last bit of the bar into her mouth as the man climbed back into the driver’s seat without looking at her. Darcy pulled the sweater on and laid back down on the seat. The sweater smelled like cheap laundry detergent. Huh. HYDRA must have someone who washes their clothes. It was a weird thought and Darcy felt a giggle bubble up from inside her as she started to doze off. The man in the front of the car turned sharply to look at her when she made the noise.

The laugh died in her throat.

“Holy shit,” Darcy gaped. He had taken his mask off and she _knew him._ Not personally, but she defied anybody who had been to an American high school not to recognise that face.

“You’re Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky turned away from her again, face impassive. She wanted to ask him more questions but sleep took hold of her and everything went black.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy wakes up, reunions occur and Jane is great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing more people here, sorry if anyone is OOC!  
> Again: I own nothing!  
> Comments and kudos greatly appreciated, thank you to those who already left some - you're all fantastic :D  
> Anyway, on with the show! Enjoy :)

Darcy opened her eyes to Thor’s concerned face just inches away from her own. She jumped away from him because, as pretty as he might be, it was a fucking intense way to wake up.  
To his credit, Thor looked immediately mortified.  
“My apologies, Lady Darcy, I did not intend to startle you.”

Darcy gave him a smile to show no hard feelings. “Don’t fret, big guy. Where am I?”  
“You are with the healers. Jane tells me on Midgard these are Doctors,” Thor nodded seriously. Bless his giant, Godlike heart.  
Darcy frowned. “How did I get here though? Last thing I remember…”  
She didn’t get to finish.

Jane burst into the room and flung herself at Darcy.  
“Oh my God, Darcy you’re awake! I’ve been so worried, they kept going on and on about trauma and consequences and I was afraid you wouldn’t come back!” Jane patted her hair gently, before rounding on Thor. “You were supposed to call for me the _second_ she woke up!”  
“My Jane, I was meaning to-”  
“The _second_ , Thor. Those were my words,” Jane glowered at him and Darcy watched the actual Prince of Asgard _wither_ under her stare. It was pretty great.  
“You have my sincere apologies,” Thor said, in what was essentially a whisper compared to his usual boom.

Darcy piped up again. “Janey, how did I get here? I fell asleep in an SUV.”  
“Yeah, that’s how you got here,” Jane nodded, slowly.  
“Really?” Darcy gaped. “Who was driving?”  
Jane cocked her head to the side. “I thought you would know?”  
“Know what, Jane?” Darcy leaned closer to her friend, ignoring the various beeping machines and her traitorous muscles. What if she’d been hallucinating?

“Darcy, _Bucky Barnes_ drove you here. He’s alive!” Jane’s eyes were wide with the conspiratorial look one gets when imparting a big secret.  
“Huh,” Darcy said as she sank back into her pillows. So it really was him.

“I would have expected more than ‘huh’ from you, Darce. Didn’t you write a few papers on him for your history credits? Anyway, he’s with Steve now. He hasn’t said a word to anyone since he got here, it’s a miracle nobody shot him when he showed up holding your unconscious body!” Jane pondered this. “Actually, nobody was really around to shoot him, they were all out looking for you… Huh, maybe if-”  
“I want to see him,” Darcy said firmly, interrupting Jane’s rambling. “When can I get out of here?”

Jane got a worried look on her face, and looked like she was going to protest Darcy ever leaving her sight ever again, when Steve knocked on the door and poked his head into the room.  
“Oh, hey Darcy! I’m glad to see you’re awake,” Steve smiled and Darcy melted a little. He wasn’t her type but come on, the guy was _Captain America._ He made grandmothers blush.  
“Just the man I was thinking about asking someone to look for!” Darcy grinned. “Where’s Bucky?”  
Steve looked momentarily taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected her to know about his long-lost best friend.

“He’s uh, in my apartment. To be honest I think it’s all a bit overwhelming for him,” he shrugged, a faraway look in his eyes. “Anyway, how are you feeling? You had us worried, Lewis.”  
“Oh you know me,” Darcy smiled softly. “Tough as nails.”  
Nobody looked like they believed her.

Four hours and a lot of wheedling later, Darcy was finally released from the medical floor of Avenger’s Tower. The first thing she did was hit the apartment Tony had designated as hers if she ever wanted to move out of her crappy Williamsburg walk-up. As the power-shower washed away the remnants of the last few days, Darcy seriously considered the offer. Good plumbing was a big draw. It almost countered out the fact she would be _living_ at work.  
Darcy dressed in some of the spare clothes she kept there in case of lab emergencies or all night science benders, then made her way out of the apartment.

“Hey, Jarv?”  
“Yes, Miss Lewis?” came the AI’s smooth reply.  
“Where’s Steve?”  
“Captain Rogers is currently in the gym with Ms Romanoff. Should I alert him of your enquiry?”  
“No thanks, J-man. It’s Bucky I’m after really.”  
“Sergeant Barnes is alone in Captain Rogers’ apartment, if this information is of any interest.”  
“You’re the best, dude.” Darcy blew a kiss at the ceiling.  
“You are most welcome, Miss Lewis. And might I add what a pleasure it is to have you back safely.”  
“Charmer.” Darcy smiled to herself the whole way to Steve’s door.

She knocked hesitantly, not knowing whether Bucky would actually answer. He did a few moments later, wearing a dark t-shirt and sweatpants and looking markedly less intimidating without the mask and warpaint (or guyliner, depending on how you thought of it). He did, however, look surprised to see her.

“Hi,” Darcy spoke, giving an awkward wave. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”  
Bucky didn’t reply, so she continued.  
“Look, thank you for saving my life. You’ve probably put yourself in a ton more danger than before, and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for what you did,” she said, and gave him a small smile.  
Bucky’s mouth started to twitch into what appeared to be a returning grin and his eyes dropped to the floor.

Before she had a chance to see whether he was actually smiling or not, Darcy felt a hand on her shoulder.

Panic burned through her body and she twisted away with a sharp cry. In an instant, Bucky had moved her behind him and was pinning the owner of the hand up against the wall of the hallway with his metal arm, a dangerous look on his face.  
Darcy’s brain took a few moments to catch up with what was happening, and when it did she recognised the would-be attacker.

“Bucky! It’s okay, this is Clint. He’s a friend,” Darcy gently placed her hand on his metal arm. Bucky looked between her hopefully reassuring eyes and the man in front of him, before releasing the grumpy archer. Clint huffed, massaging the wrist that Bucky had been twisting up against the archer’s back.

“Jesus, dude. Uncalled for!” Clint scowled at Bucky briefly, before turning to Darcy. “You look like shit.”  
Darcy felt herself grin even as Bucky narrowed his eyes at Clint. He had refused to leave her side, even though she had assured him of Clint’s innocence.  
“Yeah but I was kidnapped, what’s your excuse?” she retorted, earning a snort from both Clint and Bucky.  
“Hey, I’m channelling the whole ‘ruggedly handsome hero’ vibe that people apparently dig!” Clint smirked.  
“People have lied to you, Clint,” Darcy laughed, reaching forward and giving him a hug. “It’s nice to see you too.”

As Clint put his arms around her, Darcy saw Bucky turn and head back into Steve’s apartment. She called after him, “I owe you big time, Barnes. Don’t think you’re getting rid of me any time soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make Darcy a bit more traumatised from her ordeal, but she just didn't cooperate! Anyway, I feel like she is well equipped for dealing with tough situations such as dark elves and destroyers, why should a spot of kidnapping be any different?


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation and.... cuddling!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this so far has been completely overwhelming. Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos, it actually blows me away how lovely you all are!  
> I own nothing except the plot...  
> More than halfway through now, eek! It's 99% written, and will be complete in the next few days.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> PS. This contains mild spoilers for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, although if you haven't read the book/seen the movies I would suggest not reading this and going to do one of those things instead ;)

After finally giving in to Tony and Jane’s incessant nagging, Darcy had moved into the tower and, true to her word, hadn’t left Bucky alone. When she wasn’t at therapy (mandatory), working (girl’s gotta eat) or training with Natasha (you try saying no to the _Black Widow_ ), Darcy was trying to help Bucky fit in to tower life. She dragged him to game nights, movie nights and eventually managed to persuade him to attend Avenger’s family dinners – even Steve couldn’t do that.

Bucky tended to sit quietly in the corner with Steve at game nights – due to the fact they’re both ancient dorks who can’t cope with modern technology (“Hey, I’m trying” – Steve, every time Darcy brought it up). Unfortunately, a decades old case of resting bitch face meant that Bucky seemed to constantly glower at everyone in attendance. A few weeks in, Darcy decided she was sick of Clint moaning to her about the super-grudge the super-soldier was holding against him.

“He’s giving me a death stare again,” Clint muttered in Darcy’s ear when she was beating him at MarioKart.  
Darcy glanced over at Bucky and noticed the soldier was indeed staring daggers at the archer. He caught her eye and the look softened, but swiftly changed to the stoic blankness Darcy was accustomed to. Darcy turned back to the game (which she was now losing thanks to Clint’s distraction tactics) and when she turned around again, Bucky was gone.

Once the race was over (second place, curse Barton) and she had handed her controller over to Sam, Darcy picked her way around the various beanbags and joined Steve on the sofa at the back of the room.

“What does Bucky have against Clint?” she asked with no preamble. “I’m getting really fucking tired of Clint being a whiny little bitch about it.”  
Steve coughed, choking back a laugh. When she’d first met him, Darcy had tried to tone down the cussing as a way of making him feel more comfortable in the modern era. She had soon figured out that little Steven Grant Rogers knew some of the most colourful language she’d ever had the pleasure of hearing. He was, after all, a soldier.  
After composing himself, Steve leaned back against the sofa.  
“I dunno, Darce. At a guess, I would say Buck is a mite overprotective of you, and he thinks Barton is a threat,” Steve shrugged a shoulder.

Darcy burst out laughing.

The whole room went quiet. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Darcy gulped in air and tried to school her features into something less... hysterical?  
“Steve… uh… told me a joke?” she offered feebly.  
Natasha raised an eyebrow and Tony snorted.  
Steve looked affronted. “I’m a funny guy!”

“Keep telling yourself that, man,” Sam called from the beanbag by Natasha’s feet, without taking his eyes off the screen. Natasha smirked and flicked his ear.  
With his resulting “What the fuck, Nat?” the room returned to normal.

Darcy was back to breathing regularly when Steve nudged her side. Darcy rolled her eyes at him.  
“I get it, Bucky has a thing about looking out for me, but Clint? _Really?_   He has literally scared me _one time_ in our entire friendship, and that was down to him grabbing my shoulder in fucking stealth mode the day after I was un-kidnapped.”  
Steve nodded, “And who witnessed that?”

Realisation dawned on Darcy.  
“Okay, so apparently it’s the Darcy-is-a-fucking-idiot Show… _Shit,_ Steve. I’m going to talk to him.”

She stood up.  
“Excellent chat, Cap,” she said, saluting him, then ruffled his hair. Steve swatted at her hand good naturedly, a small smile betraying his annoyed demeanour. Darcy knew he could stop her if he wanted to but as long as he kept letting her, she was going to keep messing up the nation’s most beloved side-parting.

Darcy hopped in the elevator and sang “I’m off to see the Buckster, Jarv!” in the general direction of the ceiling.  
“Of course, Miss Lewis,” the AI responded. “I very much enjoyed the song.”  
Darcy beamed, “You are the biggest flirt I know, J-man.”  
“I shall take that as a compliment, Miss Lewis, especially considering your acquaintance with Sir.”  
“And he’s sassy too, I think you’re my perfect man,” Darcy laughed as the elevator doors opened.  
“I am honoured, Miss Lewis.”  
Darcy liked to think she detected a bit of digital pride in the AI’s voice.

Hesitantly, Darcy knocked on the door of Bucky’s suite. He had moved out of Steve’s the previous week, down to a lower level apartment completely isolated from the rest of the Avengers. Darcy kind of understood why he did it – privacy, safety and all that jazz – but also felt a little sad when she thought of him way down there on his own.  
Bucky opened the door with a scowl, as per usual.

Darcy gave an awkward wave (seemingly she could do no other kind). Bucky just stared at her.  
“I think I owe you an apology slash explanation slash something,” she blurted.  
Bucky raised an eyebrow but stood aside to allow her to enter. She brushed past him and spun on her heel to face him before he’d even shut the door.

“I want to talk to you about Clint,” Darcy said, wringing her hands.  
Bucky’s jaw tightened.  
“I think you got a bad first impression of him,” Darcy began. “He is the _least_ threatening to me out of everyone, including Thor, and he has basically adopted me as a sister. Seriously, _Jane_ is more intimidating when she wants to be.”

Bucky did not react to this _at all,_ so Darcy tried again.

“Clint Barton is one of my best friends. Not Janey’s level or anything, but he’s up there. He is about as protective of me as you are, so I feel like if anything you guys should team up to do the whole ‘Let’s be all macho and keep Darcy safe’ thingamajig together. Although, I feel like I should point out that I can protect myself, being a badass 21st century lady with a taser.”  
At Bucky’s frown, Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Okay, mostly protect myself unless the attackers are a crack team trying to kidnap me while I’m distracted,” she sighed, throwing another eye roll in for good measure. Honestly.  
The crease between Bucky's eyebrows only deepened, so Darcy crossed her arms.

“Okay, to summarise: please stop glaring at Clint because he ain’t done nothing to deserve it, Darcy can protect herself _mostly_ and Jane is terrifying and adorable, sometimes both at once.”  
Bucky's scowl finally reduced, leaving a look of mild annoyance. He did, however, nod.

Darcy beamed.

“Well, my work here is done. Come on, I’m not letting you become a hermit,” Darcy took his hand and dragged him back up to the communal area (he clearly let her, no way in hell she had the upper body strength to force a super soldier to go somewhere he didn’t want to) and sat him down on the sofa, before flopping down beside him. The team had moved on from MarioKart and someone had put a film on. The opening scene of ‘ _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1’_ was playing, and they settled in to watch.

About fifteen minutes into the movie, Darcy nudged Bucky. He looked down at her.  
“Can I look at it?” she whispered, so only he (and possibly Steve) could hear. He looked quizzical, until she pointed at his arm. Bucky hesitated for a moment – that arm could kill her in a second – before he gave in to the puppy dog eyes and nodded his consent.

Gently, Darcy picked his hand up and examined it with an intensity usually reserved for the books she read. She felt Bucky tense as she ran her hand across his wrist and watched as the metal plates shifted like sand dunes in the wind. Darcy thought of something.

“Do this,” she requested, clenching her hand into a fist and releasing it. Bucky complied and she stared as the plates shifted smoothly over one another, leaving no visible gaps. Darcy had assumed there wouldn’t be enough metal to compensate for the stretching, but clearly the bastards that made the arm knew their stuff.

She ran a fingernail against the grain of the plates, which made a small metallic clicking noise as the nail caught on the miniscule edges of each plate, and caused Bucky to shiver. She quickly looked up at him, checking she was still okay to be doing this, and received another small nod.

Darcy lifted his arm up with both hands. Huh. Much lighter than it looked. And it was warm to the touch, instead of the cool metallic temperature she had been expecting. The part of her brain dedicated to working with the Scientists Three told her that the mechanics of the arm probably generated enough heat to warm the metal plates constantly. Thanks, brain.

Realising she was missing the movie (although she had seen it several times, duh), Darcy turned her attention back to the screen. She did not, however, let go of Bucky’s arm. She left her hand resting loosely in the crook of Bucky’s metallic elbow. She didn’t seem to notice, but Bucky certainly did.

He noticed even more when she clutched at it in the build up to the snake jumping out of the old lady’s corpse. Once that scene was over, Bucky found Darcy had moved even closer to his side, tucking herself against him and draping his arm around her shoulders. When she started burying her face in his chest (she was not going to watch Dobby die again, okay) toward the end of the movie, Steve caught Bucky’s eye and smirked knowingly at the sight of Darcy cuddled up against him.

Bucky used his flesh hand to flip Steve the bird from across the room.


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is getting prepared for her favourite day of the year!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh we are at five! Nearly time for the plus one ;)  
> Thank you to all who have read this/left comments and/or kudos. I'm the kind of person who does a happy dance for each comment and tells my mum about the number of readers (She's really impressed guys, so cheers :D)  
> I hope you enjoy, I definitely got a bit carried away...  
> PS I OWN NOTHING

Darcy stood in the elevator, surrounded by groceries, formulating her plan. She had managed to get a store to deliver everything she needed without alerting anyone else of her activities – JARVIS had her back – but had failed to take into account the logistics of moving it out of the elevator. An idea came to her.

“Hey J?” she called to the ceiling.  
“Yes, Miss Lewis?”  
“Can you take me to the Sarge’s floor and open the doors please?”  
“Certainly, Miss Lewis,” the AI replied as the elevator shifted.  
Once the door pinged, Darcy put the Plan into action. She put on her best damsel in distress voice and shouted, “Bucky!”

The door halfway down the corridor slammed open and the Soldier himself burst out, gun in hand. Darcy was very proud of herself for not flinching. Instead, she chose to grin at him.

“Oh hey, what a surprise to see you here!”  
Bucky did not look impressed, so Darcy just gestured to the copious amount of food at her feet.  
“As you’re here, mind helping a girl carry this? We’re going to your kitchen, BT dubs.”

Bucky, who still hadn’t lowered the gun, looked quizzical. Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Bucky Barnes, get your cute butt over here and carry this shit. Please,” she added with a wink.  
Bucky huffed as he tucked the gun into his waistband and strode over to her. He picked up two of the enormous bags and stalked back to his apartment, returning moments later for more.  
Darcy hauled one bag up into her arms and followed the ex-soldier’s path to his apartment. He almost walked straight in to her when he stormed out to fetch the last of the groceries. Darcy smirked to herself – Bucky’s pouty face was uncannily similar to Grumpy Cat.

Once she had all of her ingredients unpacked on the table and countertops, and had finished washing and drying her hands, Darcy turned to where Bucky was lurking in the corner.

“Alright soldier, I owe you an explanation. Tomorrow is one of my most favourite days and usually it is tainted by nosy-ass scientists, greedy Gods and sneaky as fuck assassins,” Darcy paused for impact (yes, she had practiced her speech. Poli-Sci major, at your service).

“But this year, all things will change. I have done my research. Your kitchen is one of the only places in the tower where the smell of baking will not be noticed and then pounced upon by a variety of super-pests. These vents are on a separate system so they can be closed off, making them Barton proof. You requested an apartment a million miles away from the rest of the team, so no through-traffic,” Darcy beamed at the very bemused Bucky, whose frown was ever so slowly turning into a smirk.

“‘Why tomorrow?’ I hear you ask,” she winked at the ever-silent Sergeant. “Excellent question, Buckaroo. Tomorrow is Pi day, 3/14, and basically the best day of the year if you love pie as much as I do. And this year, no pie will be snaffled before the actual day. You in, Barnes?”

Bucky nodded and smiled at her. Darcy was momentarily stunned. She had never seen the man properly smile before, but good _God_ was it a sight to see. She felt a blush creep up her neck and turned away to put on her trusty ‘Bakers Do It In The Oven’ apron and survey her ingredients. She had a long day ahead of her and was determined to get Bucky involved.

“Barnes?” she enquired. “How do you feel about shortcrust pastry?”  
The man shrugged in reply. Okay, so clearly no strong feelings. Darcy pulled the biggest mixing bowl she could find down from a cupboard (thank Frigga for Tony Stark and his phenomenally well-stocked apartments) and plonked it down on the countertop. She dumped an enormous bag of flour into the bowl and weighed out the correct amount of butter before beckoning Bucky over.

“First things first, you wanna wash and dry your hands super well. Then use your fingertips to rub the butter into the flour until it looks like breadcrumbs,” she demonstrated and Bucky watched intently.

“I’ll keep checking on you, but I’ll literally be right behind you if you need me,” Darcy grinned and shook her fingers off. Bucky paused for a moment, as if processing her instructions, then made his way over to the sink. Darcy felt happiness puff up in her chest. The poor man had been to hell and back but here he was, willingly assisting her in Pie-mageddon. Bucky must have felt her attention on him, as he glanced over his shoulder and caught her eye. Darcy shook herself and hurried over to the vast pile of filling ingredients that awaited her on the opposite side of the room.

Time to get to work.

Approximately 10 hours and no less than 20 pies in a dozen different flavours later, Darcy and Bucky’s baking binge was complete. They sat on kitchen stools and gazed out at their hard work. Pie covered every surface in the kitchen and a few sat on the coffee table in the living room. Darcy looked over at Bucky.

“Don’t you even think about eating one of these before tomorrow, Barnes.”  
Bucky cocked an eyebrow at her but Darcy raised her finger in warning.

“I have mentally catalogued each and every crumb,” she said solemnly, but cracked a smile at his expression. “Seriously, Buck. Every damn _molecule_.

As she watched Bucky smirk, Darcy’s eyes lingered on Bucky’s for a fraction too long, so she tore her gaze away.

_Damn it, Lewis, pull yourself together!_ Darcy silently chided herself. She couldn’t go around getting the warm fuzzies every time someone attractive made eye contact with her. Yes, she was going through a dry spell, but that didn’t excuse going all moony at the drop of a hat.

She jumped off the chair to busy herself with packaging the pies into the cardboard boxes she’d bought online. She tossed a stack of the yet-to-be-assembled pie boxes at Bucky, who immediately began to fold them into shape. Soon, all the pies were neatly stacked in the refrigerator (Bucky didn’t seem to own any food. Darcy made a mental note to rectify that situation once Pi Day was over) and she was ready to leave.

“Thanks for the help, dude. Couldn’t have done it without you,” she gave a small wave along with her smile. Bucky snorted and Darcy rolled her eyes.  
“Okay fine, I _could_ have done it without you, you ingrate. Now I get all the credit!” She threw him a wink and made her way out of the door.

The following morning, Darcy deliberately sat in the Avengers communal area to do her work. As she expected, various members of the team came to scope out the pie situation. Pietro sped around the room, opening every single drawer and cupboard (in vain. Like she’d hide a pie in the cutlery drawer) before pausing to give her a dejected look and disappearing again. Many a hopeful face fell once they realised she wasn’t baking. Tony was the first to actually bring it up.

“Hey, minion,” he prodded her in the side. “Are you aware of the date?”  
Darcy looked up at him with a well-practiced air of nonchalance.  
“It’s March 14th, Stark. And that’s Chief Minion to you,” she turned back to deciphering Jane’s notes.  
“Shouldn’t you be doing, y’know… something else?”  
“Shouldn’t you be, y’know… annoying other people?”  
Tony rolled his eyes, “I am a _delight_.”  
Darcy let out a laugh.

“Sure, tin man. Whatever you say,” she smirked.  
Tony frowned, “Just remember who signs your paychecks, Lewis.”  
Darcy gave him a Look, “Pepper signs my paychecks. Now go away, some of us have work to do.”  
Tony threw his arms up in despair and stalked out of the room. Darcy gave herself a high five and went back to work.

Steve came in about an hour later and saw Darcy sitting at the table. He practically skipped over to the refrigerator but Darcy saw him deflate when he noticed the distinct lack of pie.  
“Uh, Darce?” he said in a small voice.  
Darcy twirled around on her stool leisurely.  
“O Captain, my Captain?” Darcy replied, keeping her face neutral.  
“Do you have, um, plans today?” Steve looked awkward as fuck, and Darcy was _basking_ in it.

She put an expression of deep thought on, then shook her head.  
“Nope, nada. Why Cap, are you propositioning me?” Darcy raised a coquettish hand to her chest.  
Steve went scarlet _._  
“No! I- uh. I just thought, um. I don’t mean to… I gotta go,” Steve stammered before all but sprinting out of the door.  
Darcy laughed until she cried.

Throughout the day, Darcy fielded awkward, despondent questions from Thor, Clint and even Sam. She left her post at the counter just after five and headed down to Bucky’s apartment. He was waiting for her, oven already warming to finish up the hot pies.

“You, James Buchanan Barnes, are an _excellent_ partner in crime,” Darcy announced. “Like, seriously ideal. _Nobody_ will have suspected a thing. I have been crushing dreams all day, which has been brilliant, and you have been stoically ignoring everyone, which is also brilliant from a secrecy point of view.”  
Bucky only shook his head in amusement.

Darcy removed the last of the chicken and mushroom pies from the oven, the mouth-watering smell making her stomach rumble. She had stumbled upon a pub in London that made the most spectacular savoury pies, and it had taken much cajoling and a number of oaths to never share the method with anyone to obtain the recipes from the very fierce pub landlady. Darcy thanked her lucky stars every time she made a chicken and mushroom or steak and ale pie though – the scary cockney woman knew her stuff.

With a little help from JARVIS, Bucky and Darcy managed to move all the pies from Bucky’s floor to the communal area without being noticed. Once the table had been set and the pies laid out in bulk, along with a small fleet of dishes filled with ice cream, custard and pouring cream, Darcy stepped back to survey her kingdom. Girl done good.  
“J, will you call the team together please? And Jane, obvi.”  
“Of course, Miss Lewis,” the AI replied. “I am certain they will be most surprised.”

He was right. As soon as Clint rounded the corner and saw the spread, he crowed with delight and swept Darcy up into a bone crushing hug.  
“Darcy Lewis, you sweet, _sweet_ Angel of pastry,” he gushed.  
Darcy swatted him away.

“Get your stinkin’ paws off me, you damn dirty ape,” she grinned. “And don’t you dare touch a thing until everyone gets here!”

Clint crossed his heart and ambled over to get a beer from the refrigerator as the others started to file in. Natasha nodded once at her as she entered, to Darcy’s utter joy. That reaction from Nat was worth three of Clint’s whoops of joy. Darcy did notice Tony fork over a crisp $50 to both Natasha and Thor when he came in, but he didn’t seem overly bothered.

Once everyone had arrived and was seated around the feast, Darcy stood up and cleared her throat – to no avail above the noise of several over-enthusiastic superheroes. A small clinking noise sounded and everyone stopped their excited chatter. Darcy looked to the source and saw Bucky placing his knife down beside his water glass. With a smile of gratitude, Darcy turned to the assembled (ha!) group.

“First of all, I would like to say… SUCKAS!” Everyone groaned, but this only spurred Darcy on more.  
“Y’all doubted me, and I like to think you brought the suspense upon yourselves. Normally, one of you gannets eats my pies before Pi Day, and this makes me extremely sad. It was only with the cooperation of the good sergeant here that this feast was possible. So, enjoy it! And also take notes because next year will not happen if anyone decides to pre-emptively steal baked goods again, savvy?”  
There was a flurry of nervous nods.

Darcy beamed, “Alright, morons. Dig in!”

“What are we eatin’, Darce?” Steve piped up, before backtracking slightly. “I mean, all of them look amazing of course, but which is which?”  
Clint looked between Darcy and Steve, pie slice already hovering over the Strawberry Rhubarb, waiting for permission.

“Cap poses an excellent question,” Darcy nodded at him. “Personally, I’d go for savoury-” she pointed out the multiple steak and ale and chicken and mushroom pies dotted around the table. “-followed by sweet. Hence the two plates I gave you all. Bruce, Wanda – Spanakopita is there for you guys mainly.”  
The two vegetarians gave her grateful smiles.

Nobody made a move to eat, although Pietro was practically vibrating and Clint was still frozen in place with his pie slice aloft, so Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Okay, keep up people. We’ve got Apple, Blueberry, Pecan, Cherry, Key Lime, Lemon Meringue, Strawberry Rhubarb and Peach,” she reeled off, pointing at each in turn. To her, the differences were painfully obvious but on the other hand, she did bake the things.  
Seemingly content with the guidance, everyone tucked in.

After a meal filled with more indecent moaning than BestBuy with a porn virus, everyone was lounging on sofas, fit to burst. Steve had ended up beside her.  
“Thanks for today, Darce. I don’t really get the significance behind it, but the scientists seemed to enjoy the subtext,” the man smirked.

“You’re most welcome, Steve-o. I like being able to contribute something to the team every once in a while,” she shrugged.  
Steve sat up a little straighter.

“Darcy, you do more for this team in a single day than some of us manage in a month! Tony, Jane and Bruce eat and sleep, Clint and Nat get a slice of normality, I get a friend who doesn’t treat me like a relic, Thor gets his little sister and Bucky… well you make Bucky feel loved again.”

The earnestness in Steve’s voice shocked Darcy into silence. Tears threatened to fall, and her throat constricted. She contemplated it for a millisecond, then threw her arms around him. Darcy squeezed him with all her might, and she felt Steve’s arms envelope her in return. When she pulled away, she wiped her eyes. The tears had escaped.

“That was… that was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Darcy choked out. Steve’s mouth lifted in a small smile and he brushed a piece of hair off her face.  
“I meant every word, Darce. You are special,” he said.  
Darcy beamed at him and snuggled up beside him.

“Oh, and well done on the pecan pie. Bucky’s ma used to make it for him just like that every birthday. Jerk never wanted cake, always pie,” Steve chuckled fondly, but Darcy locked onto the memory, an idea already forming in her head.

The next time Bucky returned from a mission, a freshly baked pecan pie was waiting on the counter for him with a note.

_‘Eat me. X’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I got carried away! 10 points for each person who guesses when this chapter was first realised :P


	6. + I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One time Bucky (finally) speaks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is!  
> Thank you to all those who supported this fic from start to finish, your comments have been inspiring me every day (hello lots of new fic ideas ;D)  
> As always comments and kudos would be appreciated, I own nothing, and you are all wonderful.  
> ENJOY!

Darcy banged her head against the elevator door as it rose smoothly up into the tower. She should have realised that trying to end her dry spell with Derek from HR was a stupid idea. When he’d asked her out a few days ago, she’d though ‘why not?’ and agreed to dinner. Maybe the first sign not to agree should have been that he hadn’t said her words (which shouldn’t really be an issue), but when he’d booked the table under ‘D-Dog’ she ought to have run for the hills.

Give everyone the benefit of the doubt, that’s what her Mom always said, but she wished she had followed her gut instead. Then she might not be traipsing back to the tower, alone, at 10:45pm after spending three hours listening to the man drone on about himself and his “extreme”-fucking-sports.

Puh-lease, she was friends with the Avengers. Some clown who liked jumping around on a BMX just wasn’t going to cut it.

 

The elevator opened on the communal floor, causing several heads to turn in her direction. Oh this was just perfect, they were having an impromptu get together and everyone was here to witness her lone return. However, Jane was there and her need for a cuddle outweighed the embarrassment.

Darcy shuffled over to the sofa that Jane and Thor sat on and threw herself down face first. She felt a small hand pat her hair and rolled over.

 “Janey,” Darcy heard the whine in her own voice. “Why does nobody love me?”

Jane gave her a sympathetic smile.  “Darcy, we all love you,” she pointed out. Darcy just huffed.

“You guys don’t count. I’m pretty sure I added ‘Must Love Darcy’ as a clause in all your contracts,” she moaned. 

Jane rolled her eyes.  “You’re hopeless, Darce!” she stroked the curls off Darcy’s face. “Think about your words.”

Darcy propped herself up on her elbows. 

“Yeah, but they mean nothing until I actually meet them. Until then, it’s just one of the many things that drive people away,” Darcy pouted and rested her head back onto the cushioned seat.

Jane looked around at the quiet room crossly.  “Well? Someone tell Darcy there’s no reason for people not to love her!”

 

Clint made an ‘eh’ noise and both Jane and Darcy glared at him. He shrugged. “You do snort when you laugh,” he pointed out.

Darcy looked at Jane and wailed, “He’s right, I do!” Jane spluttered for a retort, but Tony spoke up first.

“You interfere with my science. Like all the time,” he said. Darcy gave him a withering glare. “I make you function as a human being, Stark,” she reminded him. Tony winced dramatically, “But I’m so much better than that!”

 Darcy gave a small laugh.

 

Clint piped up again. “You swear like a trucker!” 

“Go suck a dick, Hawkass,” Darcy smirked in response, much to Clint’s delight. 

"Such language!” he cried, putting on a (terrible) Southern accent, and causing Darcy to grin even more.

 “Motherfucking douchenozzle,” Darcy winked.

 

“You’re so loud for such a small person,” Tony lamented, not one to be upstaged. 

Darcy scoffed, “Are you sure you want to play the size card, Tony?” 

There was a flutter of laughter around the room, loudest of all from Pepper and Tony slumped back in a sulk.

 

"You drink all the good coffee,” Clint complained from his beanbag. 

“I make all the good coffee,” Darcy said, sighing.

“And another thing!” Tony shouted, sitting up again. “JARVIS likes you more than me!”

 “How is that a flaw?” Darcy threw her hands up in despair. 

Tony held up a hand. “It just is, don’t question your shortcomings.”

  
Clint raised his hand. Clearly the man had yet to graduate fifth grade. 

“You and Natasha being friends is just plain scary,” the archer mused.

Natasha chuckled, and leaned over to offer Darcy her fist. 

"Damn straight,” Natasha said, giving Clint a superior smirk. 

Darcy accepted the fist bump willingly, a smug expression on her face. That made all the fricking training sessions at ungodly hours of the morning worth it.

 

“Honestly,” Tony began, causing the room to groan collectively. “No, hear me out! Lewis, you have a shitty taste in men.”

Tony spread his hands in a surrender motion. 

Darcy made a noise of derision. 

"Tony, that is literally the problem right now, you are not helping at all!” she cried before burying her head in a cushion.

Tony opened his mouth to reply, when an unfamiliar voice spoke from the back corner of the room.

  
“ _I think you’re perfect_.”

  
The whole room froze.

Bucky was sitting in the corner, looking vaguely stunned that he had made a noise at all.

Sam stared between Darcy, now sitting bolt upright on the sofa, and Bucky, who was going paler by the second. 

“Did he just-?” Sam spoke in disbelief. He prodded Steve, who was stunned into silence beside him.

“Has he spoken to you yet?”

 Steve shook his head dumbly.

  
Darcy had managed to unscramble her brain and pause the hyperventilation for a moment. “Barnes?” she asked, voice higher than normal. “Can I, uh, have a word? Outside? Like, right now?”

Bucky, back to silence, followed her as she almost ran out of the room.

 

Once they were safely out of eavesdropping distance, in some unremarkable corridor far from the communal area, Darcy turned to face the still stricken Bucky. 

“You said my words,” Darcy declared. Bucky’s eyes widened.

“I, uh,” he began, voice rough with disuse. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure, moron,” Darcy told him, affectionately. “Look!” 

She hitched up her dress and showed him the soulmark that twisted across her upper thigh. The look in Bucky’s eyes as he stared at the mark made her swallow hard. She watched him reach out his flesh hand towards her leg, but he faltered at the last moment and looked away from where his words were etched into her skin.

“Are you sure you want it to be me?” He murmured. 

Darcy’s heart melted a little, watching the man scratch nervously at the back of his head. Even now, even after she had made every effort to reassure him that he was worth something, he still doubted his importance.

 

Darcy let her hem drop, covering her soulmark and drawing Bucky’s attention back to her face. She watched him for a few moments, allowing him time to process before she spoke again. This time, her voice was soft and gentle.

 “Can I see yours, Buck?”

Bucky looked pained.

 “Darcy,” he started, her name unfamiliar on his tongue. “I don’t know if you’ll like what you see. I’m sorry.”

Darcy felt her stomach drop. She was a fucking idiot. She had latched on to the first person to say her words, one of her best friends nonetheless, and was about to be humiliated and heartbroken beyond measure. Blinking back tears, she nodded anyway. Better to confirm it. “Please. I need to,” she whispered.

 

Slowly and carefully, Bucky turned around and pulled his shirt up over his head. There, on his right shoulder, was a neat black sentence. Darcy’s heart leapt – she definitely said those words. But with closer inspection, she felt sick.

Someone had clearly tried to carve the mark out of Bucky’s flesh. The words were marred with harsh, raised scar tissue, distorting the letters. The cruel act must have been repeated on multiple occasions, as the scars varied in colour – from almost translucent white to angry red welts that looked recent.

“Bucky,” Darcy breathed, reaching out to brush her fingers across the words. “I don’t know what to say.”

Bucky drew a shaky breath. 

"Did you say it?” he asked, so quietly she had to ask him to repeat himself. “Did you say… what it says?”

 

Darcy gently pulled him around to face her, his shirt still clutched in his hands. She took in the apprehension written all over his face, watched the way his anxious eyes tried to read what she was thinking.

 “Do you remember meeting me?” she said finally.

Bucky’s expression grew tense. “I, uh… I don’t really know. I keep getting flashes, but I think they tried to wipe you from my brain. They must have seen this,” he gestured to his marked shoulder. “And realised what you were to me.”

Darcy was quiet for a minute, unsure how to react to the soldier’s confession. So many questions burned on her tongue, but she didn’t want to overwhelm the already fragile man. She started with something easy. 

"Why haven’t you spoken? Until now, I mean,” she asked gently, gazing up at him with imploring eyes.

Bucky looked down at his hands. “I guess I wasn’t sure what would come out. I didn’t know whether I’d be speaking English or… y’know… if they’d programmed me to only speak Russian or somethin’,” he replied carefully, trailing off towards the end.

 

At this, Darcy couldn’t control herself any longer. She stepped forwards and threw her arms around Bucky’s waist, giving him the hug that HYDRA had deprived him of for seventy years. Bucky was tense for a few moments, before wrapping his arms around Darcy’s shoulders and exhaling softly. They stood in silence, folded in each other’s arms, for a long while.

“You were sitting in the lab,” Darcy murmured into his chest. “And all the lights were off. Jane does that a lot, forgets to turn the lights on after it gets dark. So I, um, called you a nerd? And then I guess I must have startled the Soldier…”

Darcy felt Bucky’s arms loosen around her, sensing him prepare to recoil into a shell of guilt and self-hatred for something the Soldier did. Darcy reached up and put a hand on either side of his face.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you stop that,” Darcy said, forcing him to focus on her. “You are not allowed to blame yourself for what HYDRA brainwashed the Soldier into doing. That was not your choice, you hear me? Do we blame Clint for what he did while he was being controlled by Loki? No. Do we blame Pietro and Wanda for being manipulated by HYDRA and Ultron? Not one bit. So we do not blame you for the actions of the Winter Soldier!”

Darcy glared up at him, the fire in her eyes daring Bucky to try and take responsibility for HYDRA’s brainwashing. Darcy was prepared to argue until she was blue in the face.

 

However, she was definitely _not_ prepared for Bucky to lean down and plant his lips on hers, so softly that she had barely registered what was happening before he was pulling away.

"I'm sorr-" Bucky didn't get to finish before Darcy chased his lips with hers, using her hands to draw him down towards her.

This time, Bucky didn’t pull away.

He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, tangling his flesh hand in her hair. Darcy sighed softly as he danced his tongue across her lips, begging for entrance. She complied, and joined her hands together behind his neck to press herself ever closer to her new-found soulmate as he deepened their kiss.

Bucky seemed to notice Darcy straining up to meet him, so bent down slightly to scoop her up with his metal arm and press her against the nearest wall. With a small gasp of surprise (that she quickly got over), Darcy locked her legs around his waist, enjoying the new angle that allowed her to properly sink her fingers into Bucky's unfairly soft hair.

 

After a long few minutes, Bucky pulled away softly, causing Darcy to pout.

“People are going to get the wrong idea, Darce,” Bucky smirked, his nose bumping hers. “Catchin’ us in a compromising position, me with my shirt off.”

 “People are going to have absolutely the _right_ idea,” Darcy grinned in return. “You’re my soulmate now, Bucky Barnes. Expect spontaneous hallway makeout sessions to be a common occurrence from this moment forward.” 

"I’m looking forward to it, doll,” the soldier said, a huge smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about awkward spacing, I'm posting this from my iPad..  
> I am currently on holiday (yes, this little British girl is holed up in a hotel in LA, about to start a road trip) but once I return it will be fics galore! This has really improved my confidence and I will actually be sharing more fics in the future (shock horror)  
> Love you all, thanks again :) xx


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